A Drow in Exile - Episode 4

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Sy'lathris lay languidly on the fur rug that the old woman had prepared for her, still feeling weak and dejected despite the warm stew she'd been fed, a mixture of vegetables and some kind of meat which had tasted good and that the drow had not bothered to inquire further on. It had been a few weeks, and with sufficient focus she'd learned a bit of the old hag's speech, enough to be able to communicate a small amount, and understand a little more when she was spoken to. Enough to explain her plight, after a fashion; the old hag seemed generous enough that she might help for some reason or another, as overworlders were known to do at times. At this point, figured the drow, it wouldn't hurt to try that opportunity.

The cottage appeared not to be simply a dwelling, but a shrine as well, with one room dedicated to a rather grotesque idol at which the old human burned incense and did other strange rituals on the pentragram carved in the floor. Demon worship wasn't entirely alien to Sy'lathris, but the particular rites weren't ones she recognized. She had little trust for the old woman to begin with; the ritual room didn't do much to affect that judgement either way.

That didn't mean, however, that she wasn't apprehensive when the hag lead her into that room, promising a new approach to trying to heal the sickly drow, since Sy'lathris had felt little effect from the various herbs and potions she'd been given thus far. Her eyes narrowed as she followed the old woman into the chamber, her glance flicking from place to place despite having looked in the room before.

"Now, let's see what we can do." cackled the hag.

"Can't heal me." growled the frustrated drow, skeptical of the witch's magical powers.

"No, not completely... but I know of someone who might."

"Tell me."

"Well, dearie, I'd say I've been quite generous to you already. You owe me."

Taking a collar off of a hook on the wall, the witch advanced to clap the iron band around Sy'lathris' throat. The drow hissed and fought, but in the state she was in, even the old woman managed to wrestle her down and bind her. Already attached to the wall by one chain, the collar was soon secured by two others so that Sy'lathris could not move from the circle inscribed on the floor. She struggled with the collar as the witch set about performing the required rituals and incantations, bits and pieces of which the drow recognized as rites of summoning. Knowing some of the ways of magic herself, Sy'lathris felt the tingle of power beginning to accumulate in the room, coursing along the lines carved in the floor around her. She recognized, too, a spell to call a being from the demon realms, her eyes widening as she realized that she might well be nothing more than bait for a demon to be summoned. Hissing with rage, she heaved against the chains, her legs thrashing until she tumbled down exhausted, prevented from complete collapse by the support of the chained collar.

Magical power continued to gather along the lines of the pentagram, beginning to pulsate in an erratic rhythm as the old hag continued to chant. Her eyes widened quizically, a frown creasing her already lined face. "That's not right. My demon won't come. Someone's holding him back... someone else wants to come instead." Her brows knit with fear and concentration; something like this had never happened before in all of her dealings with creatures from the planes beyond.

With a horrible sound, a clawed hand tore through the fabric of reality, creating a hole to elsewhere in front of the quivering hag. A massive creature followed, bulky with muscle, his head resembling a goat's, the color of his mottled skin resembling that of a week-old corpse. Naked, the demon's penis hung free, swaying slightly as he moved to look down at the witch, who pointed one trembling finger at the chained drow, unable to speak beyond a wordless stutter. The demon slowly turned, his bestial lips curving into a wicked smile.

"Sy'lathris." boomed the creature's voice through yellowed goat-teeth, the corpse-purple tongue licking bestial lips as the demon's red eyes glared down on the bound drow.

"You remember me?" Sy'lathris gulped apprehensively, her voice barely a whisper.

"Remember you? You kept me, the Great Roithujgah, Lord of the Skullbound Tower and commander of twelve cohorts, bound flat on my back for seven days and seven nights so that you might ride on my cock like a queen on her steed, seeking for some demon-spawned brats from my loins, though I yet had enough magic that I thwarted you in that attempt. Yes, I remember you, Sy'lathris. I remember all too well."

The demon seized the frightened drow by the neck, his massive hand covering collar and throat with slimy flesh, then he threw her onto her belly, snapping the chains that held her supported so that she fell flat on her face. With a bestial grunt, he moved over her, pinning her with one knee while his cock grew erect at an alarming pace. Though other creatures had raped her on her bizarre journey, this time Sy'lathris was genuinely terrified that the demon might elect to kill her, and if he did, she knew it would be a lingering, prolonged death full of humiliation and pain. She had indeed humiliated this powerful demon; it had required a great deal of preparation and magic to pull off the summoning and binding of such a strong one, and the lack of any offspring from her unions with the bound fiend had been a grave disappointment after all the time and energy she had put into the gambit.

Crawling on top of the drow, his muscled form dwarfing her lithe frame, he reached down to slap her buttocks roughly, then prod at her anus with one meaty thumb, pressing hard on it but not positioning the digit for entry. Growling, he reared up and spat on his angry, veiny erection before guiding it towards the tiny hole, his throbbing cock seeming surely too big for such a tight entry.

"Not in my ass, Great Roithujgah, I plead of you..." groaned Sy'lathris in the eerily melodic drow tongue, tears clinging to her eyelashes as she slumped in humiliation, already knowing it was no use to beg, but wishing desperately that her tiny ebon anal pucker wouldn't be so appealing to so many of the creatures that wanted to rape her of late.

"Baaaah, hah hah hah!" boomed the demon in a half-laugh, half-bleat that shook the walls with his sadistic mirth. "Not in your ass, indeed! I suppose you still want another chance at those demon-whelps you tried to force out of me... Well, no chance of that! It's my pleasure now, and I'm going to ram you in the stink until every last sperm squirts in your gut!" Roithujgah laughed again, then spat on the head of his massive cock a second time, guiding it against the drow's tense anus and beginning to push despite the keening protest in her throat.

He pressed forcefully against her resistance, and despite trying to clench tight, she could feel the creature's penis working its way into her unwilling anus, slowly spreading the tight ring open to invade her with humiliating fullness. It only hurt the more for her resistance, her white teeth gritted hard, a stark contrast with her glossy black lips as the light from the braziers at the corners of the room spilled over her. Once she was open, Roithujgah slammed into her to the hilt, his heavy balls slapping against her cunt hard enough to sting, a cry of agony pouring from Sy'lathris as she twisted and squirmed beneath her assailant, overfilled with his beastly cock.

Sy'lathris' beautiful ebon features contorted in anguish as the demon raped her, her pupils dilating then drawing to tight pinpricks as she hissed and mewled with pain each time Roithujgah's cock slammed into her bowel. Roithujgah pounded her mercilessly, jackhammering her protesting anus with deep thrusts, his body frighteningly strong as it bucked above her, his hands gripping her shoulders painfully tight. The demon's massive cock throbbed with demonic ecstasy inside her most obscene sheath as he invaded her with mighty thrusts, every scream of agony forced from Sy'lathris' shining ebon lips making him pulse with delight in the depths of her tight, clenching asshole.

Tears rolled down Sy'lathris' smooth, black cheeks despite herself, the pain and humiliation of being hammered by the demon too much to bear, her body rocked beneath him by the force of his thrusts. Her anus clenched with spasms of pain, pleasuring Roithujgah's invading cock while making her cry out with the sharp, throbbing pangs that each clench produced in her. Her flesh clung tight around him, her anus flexing in and out with every thrust as he stuffed her overfull with his veiny, demonic meat. His cock was a lance of pain in her bowel, churning inside her as he pounded in and out like a brutal adversary, moaning and bleating his delight over the drow's wails and groans of torment.

Soon, a louder cry echoed from Roithujgah's bestial lips, his balls throbbing and tightening as they prepared to consummate the forced sodomy with an outpour of demonic seed into the barren tract of Sy'lathris' well-raped bowels. Heaving rhythmically in the tight grip of her ass, Roithujgah's cock began to blast foul cum into her intimate passage, splattering her inner walls and then flooding deeper and deeper in her intestine as his seed continued to flow. She'd been frustrated by the demon lord's small, watery ejaculations when she'd tried to conceive by him, and now she knew it was a trick of his magics; it even seemed that now he was making up for what he'd held back previously. His cock continued to throb and pour, her stomach growling and churning as demon seed gushed into her in a disgusting flood, Roithujgah's cries and bleats of ecstasy tormenting her ears with every surge of glop into her innards.

A wave of nausea wracked the miserable drow's body, and she quivered, her eyes rolling back as she tried to push herself up from the floor, then, pitching forward, she retched and began to vomit, the overload of demon cum pouring from her mouth to splatter on the floor. Sy'lathris clenched her teeth and tried to hold the bubbling seed back, but failed, choking and spewing another splatter of Roithujgah's sperm-filled glop onto the floor, the slimy cum trickling over her lips and down her chin, the foul tastes of demon semen and her own ass filling her mouth, making her vomit a third time, as much from disgust as to relieve the pressure. Overwhelmed by nausea and humiliation, she swayed, trying to remain on all fours but ultimately stumbling and falling face-first into the sloppy pool of disgorged cum, her face turning to the side as she gasped for breath.

"Baaaaah hah hah hah hah hah hahhhh!" Roithujgah laughed with sadistic triumph, stamping on Sy'lathris' back with one hoofed foot, leaving a bruise that would be hidden by the black of her skin and making more of his cum splash out of her mouth as her eyes bulged with pain and humiliated surprise. Rolling her over, the demon slapped her glossy black lips roughly with his cock, smearing the spermy mess on her face before pushing the head of his filthy cock into her petite mouth. Nausea threatened the tormented drow again as she tasted the revolting flavors of the demon's foetid cock and her own rectal bitterness on his skin, but she managed to hold down her gag reflex this time, licking his swollen glans while her eyes stared blankly somewhere far away. Chuckling, Roithujgah popped his cock back out from between her lips, then rubbed it a bit more against her cheek before shifting forward a bit, letting his massive ballsac slap her face as he began to teabag the humiliated drow, laughing all the while. Grunting with protest at the foul, slimy skin covering her face, Sy'lathris squirmed, wrinkling her nose as she was forced to lick the monster's stinking scrotum, her eyes closing as more tears welled at their corners.

The drow was nearly suffocated by the demon's sulfurous balls by the time he decided he was done, standing back up and looking around the room with a grunt. Leaving Sy'lathris collapsed on the floor, Roithujgah turned towards the witch, who had pressed herself against the wall, watching in mingled horror and fascination with one hand over her mouth.

"Know, mortal, that I have marked you, and that I know of your dealings with my vassal. It is a dangerous path you tread, and few see the Great Roithujgah on this plane and live. But you have done me a boon that I have craved, though you willed it not, and so I will grant you the boon you wished to ask of my vassal. But do not grow over-greedy, for I shall know if you lie about your previous intention."

The hag cautiously leaned close and muttered some words to the demon, too soft and too cryptic for the drow to make out as she lay on the floor, fucked to a half-conscious stupor and leaking demon semen from both ends in an ignoble manner.

"It shall be done, and I depart. Remember, mortal. Lord Roithujgah knows your name, and your heart." With that, the demon waved his hand over the drow, palm down as crimson motes of magic, like sparks from a fire, fluttered down onto her from his outstretched fingers. Then, ripping the rent in the fabric of reality open with both hands, the demon stepped through and the air knit itself behind him.


Sy'lathris awoke feeling like she could crawl to the nearest body of water and vomit until the water would never be clean again, but as she sat up, the feeling began to recede with the shocking realization that, far from feeling the pains of shredded guts and dislocated limbs as she'd expected, she felt strong again, back to her old self. Looking to the mirror, she saw that her eyes were red again, the sick amber tones drained away. She'd been bathed in her unconsciousness as well; some misplaced kindness by the old woman, she supposed. She smirked at her reflection, then she grabbed the nearest knife from the table as quietly as she could, seeing the witch had her back turned. So Roithujgah had taken away her illness, for reasons she didn't understand for now, but the method it had taken! Since she could not destroy the demon, she would at least punish the witch.

Raising the knife, she darted at the hag's back like a wildcat on the hunt, ready to stab down on a spot that would incapacitate without killing, so that she could make sure the old woman paid appropriately. But as she swung the blade, she felt as if she were swinging her arm through deep water, the movement slow and then halting, as if a force held her back despite the straining of her muscles.

The witch turned. "So you're awake, dearie. And a pleasant good morning to you, too."

"What was done?" growled the drow, her voice soft and chill with deadly anger.

"Well, dearie. That nice demon put a geas on you for me. You go and bring me Malkhephon's skull from the ruins of Melcadia and then we'll chat a little more."

"You," Sy'lathris hissed, then spat a vicious slur in the drow tongue, the meaning lost in any translation, but the venom it was spoken with giving the old hag some inkling of its intent.

"You really should be more polite to a kind old lady, dearie. And fetch me that skull in good haste, will you? The demon said that you'll begin to sicken again whenever you stray from the quest. And that you wouldn't be able to harm me. That much, I can see, is true."

Sy'lathris scowled, brooding, the knife still clutched in her tightly clenched fist.

"Take this, it'd suit you better than that old thing." the witch handed Sy'lathris a viciously sharp dagger in place of the vegetable cutting knife that the drow had picked up. Taking it slowly, and wishing she could plunge it into the manipulative hag, Sy'lathris continued to scowl, contemplating her options as she exchanged one blade for the other.

"'Melcadia', where?" she growled.

The witch tut-tutted and shook her head, "Everyone in these parts knows. South." She gestured with one crinkled hand, "You'll be able to get directions as you go."

Clutching the dagger painfully tight and gritting her teeth, Sy'lathris nodded, and turned to depart.

"Take that, too." the witch interrupted, pointing to a set of leathers on the table. Grudgingly, the drow set down her new blade to take them, giving them a critical look. Sy'lathris was more schemer than fighter, but she still realized that the outfit, which amounted to little more than a bikini and boots of thick studded leather, offered little in the way of protection. Swearing and grumbling in the drow tongue at the insult, she slipped into the leathers anyway, noting that they fit quite well on her lithe frame. It was better than the urinous rags she'd scavenged in the village, at any rate, and covered those parts that most needed it, if little else.

The witch nodded, flashing a gap-toothed grin. "Now you're ready. Go find me that skull, dearie."

Hissing like an irate cat, Sy'lathris nodded curtly and turned, seething inwardly as she stepped out the door of the cottage. She'd make the witch pay, somehow, she promised herself. She'd make Roithujgah pay, too, if she could. But for now, it seemed, she'd have to play their game. For now.

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